


Tempting || Sherlock [BBC]

by MeganMay15347



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Hellva Ride, Past and Present, Slow Burn, Third Person POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganMay15347/pseuds/MeganMay15347
Summary: She thought she was safe.But she wasn't.She thought she could protect her daughter from the truth.But she couldn't.Now the only man that could help her was the cold hearted Sherlock Holmes.But can he even protect her from the monster in her closet?Or is it too late for her and her daughter?





	1. WELCOME!!!

_**BONJOUR!** _

_**HOLA!** _

_**CIAO!** _

 

_**HELLO!!** _

 

So, I've been writing this story off and on since Christmas and I wasn't ready to post it until now. I don't know how good it is so that's why I need you guys to comment and give me your feedback! I have a plan for this story that might seem that it came out of the blue when it actually comes to light, but remember everything is actually planned out.

Also, I'm American so when I write in British terms, I might not get them all right or correct. Don't blame me. I'm trying the best that I can.

 

I have a cast list of all my original characters.

 

**CAST LIST:**

**Karen Gillan** as  _Isabella 'Bella' Jones_

 **Young Abigail Breslin** as  _Violet Moriarty-Jones_

 **Michael Fassbender** as _Sebastian 'Seb' Moran_

 

So that is my cast list. I will add to it if I need to but that is as it stands as of publication date.

I will be updating this story every Saturday. Except when I start a new episode. Then I will skip a Saturday to start writing that episode and update the next. If this sounds confusing, don't worry, it will make more sense as time goes on.

One more thing.

I will add small, short interlude chapters sometimes to show how Bella's life was before the story actually takes place. You'll be able to tell the main story from the backstory chapters. I promise.

 

Anyways...Onto the Story!!


	2. EPIGRAPH

__

_[Thirty Seconds To Mars - This Is War lyrics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMAVLXk9QWA) _

_"When she couldn't find the hero she wanted, she became the hero she needed."_


	3. ONE

 

It had been a little over three years since Bella had managed to leave James Moriarty. It was when she had escaped, with help from a friend, that she came across a man named Mycroft Holmes who decided to help her fly under the radar and stay under. He was protecting her, the Scottish girl who had gotten in too deep with the wrong man.

"Really, Mycroft?" Bella rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Why do I have to come with you?"

"Because, where I go, you go," Mycroft said with a small smile.

Bella just nodded her head, not wanting to get into an argument. But what Mycroft said next made her want to smack him.

"And then, wherever Sherlock goes, you go," Mycroft said.

Bella's eyes widened as she turned her head to him. " _What?!_ "

"Yes. Since it's getting busy with the Korean elections, I have come to the solution that, while trying to persuade Sherlock to take this case, I will also ask him to watch over you."

"And how exactly is this _supposed_ to work?"

"We'll just have to see."

►

Bella stood behind the armchair that Mycroft was sitting in. She was watching the brothers argue over whether Sherlock would watch her and take the case. Sherlock had his violin to his chest and was plucking the strings intermittently. It was beginning to grate on her nerves how annoying he was. She was just about to pipe up and tell them she didn't need Sherlock to babysit her like a child when she heard somebody shout,

"Sherlock!"

Footsteps pounded up into the flat to reveal a short blonde man who huffed and puffed. It seemed as though he had run all the way here from wherever he came from.

"John," Sherlock said, looking up at him.

"I saw it on the telly," the man, John, said. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? What?" Sherlock asked before looking around at the mess of broken glass and scattered paperwork as if he had forgotten about it. "Oh, yeah. Fine. Gas leak, apparently."

Sherlock turned his attention back to his brother and the woman standing behind him while he continued to pluck the strings of his violin. Mycroft stared at Sherlock pointedly, expecting Sherlock to give in and accept the case and Bella. But he wasn't so lucky.

"I can't," Sherlock said.

"' _Can't'_?" Mycroft asked.

"The stuff I've got on is just too big," Sherlock said. "I can't spare the time."

"Never mind your usual trivia," Mycroft said annoyed, not spotting the lie like Bella did. "This is of national importance and importance to me."

Sherlock, however, ignored Mycroft. "How's the diet?" He asked as he flicked his fingers across the strings.

Mycroft refused to rise to the implied insult, though. " _Fine._ " Mycroft looked over at John. "Perhaps _you_ can get through to him, John."

"What?" John asked, though clearly distracted by the damage in the flat.

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent," Mycroft said.

"If you're so keen, why don't _you_ keep her safe _and_ investigate it?" Sherlock asked.

"He can't, what with the Korean elections," Bella said, somewhat glaring at the younger Holmes.

Though, she received a glare from the older Holmes.

"Was I not supposed to say anything about that?" Bella asked, looking a bit bashful after noticing her mistake. She started to twist the ring on her middle finger on her left hand.

Mycroft turned his head back round. "Well, you don't need to know about that, do you?" He smiled, giving everybody a clear message to forget what Bella had let slip.

"Besides, Bella _needs_ to be protected," Mycroft added. "And, I figured, with a case that requires," he grimaced in distaste, " _legwork,_ she could help you."

Sherlock mis-plucked one of his strings, as if on purpose, with an irritated look on his face. He turned to John, choosing not to respond to Mycroft. Instead, he would ask John a question or two.

"How's Sarah, John? How was the lilo?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft, who was consulting his pocket watch, sighed. It was Bella, however, who spoke up.

"Sofa, dear Sherlock. It was the sofa," Bella said.

Sherlock briefly looked John up and down to make sure that the girl had been right.

"Oh yes, of course," Sherlock said, confirming Bella's deduction.

" _How..._ Oh, never mind," John said, assuming that Bella was a Holmes as well, taking a seat down on the coffee table.

Mycroft smiled across at John.

"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you and he became...pals," Mycroft said. At this, Sherlock threw him a dark look to which Bella raised an eyebrow. "What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine."

"And you want me to stay with him?" Bella whispered under her breath, continuing to mess with the ring.

"I'm never bored," John replied, not hearing Bella.

Mycroft began to smile condescendingly. "Good! That's good, isn't it?"

Again, Sherlock glared at him. Mycroft stood up as Sherlock picked up his bow and whipped one end through the air in front of him. Bella was sure that Sherlock was going to hit Mycroft with the bow, but he didn't.

 _So much self-control,_ Bella thought.

Picking up a folder from the table beside him, Mycroft stepped forward towards Sherlock and offered it to him. However, Sherlock just looked back at him stubbornly, as if telling him to shove it. Grimacing and poking his tongue into the corner of his mouth, Mycroft turned and offered the folder to John instead.

"Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends," Mycroft said to a startled looking John who took the folder.

"He was a civil servant who was found dead on the tracks at Battersea Station this morning with his head smashed in," Bella said, walking from behind the armchair to occupy the now empty seat.

"Jumped in front of a train?" John asked.

"Seems the logical assumption," Mycroft replied.

John quirked the briefest of smiles. "But?"

"'But'?" Mycroft echoed confused.

"Well, you wouldn't be here if it was just an accident," John said.

Sherlock, who was applying rosin to his bow with a small cloth, smirked noisily. Bella rolled her eyes at him. She didn't understand how Mycroft could leave her care in the hands of him of all people! She would probably end up murdering him before he _actually_ started helping her.

"The M.O.D. is working on a new missile defence system – the Bruce-Partington Programme, it's called," Mycroft said, looking at Sherlock expecting him to commit this all to memory as John had a look through the file. "The plans for it were on a memory stick."

John sniggered quietly at that. "That wasn't very clever."

Sherlock smiled in an agreement which caused Bella to retort, "It's not the only copy."

"Oh," John said.

"But it _is_ secret. And missing," Mycroft said.

" _Top_ secret?" John asked, sparing a glance up at Mycroft.

"Very," Mycroft said with a pointed look. "We think West must have taken the memory stick. We can't possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands." Mycroft looked back at his brother. "You've got to find those plans, Sherlock, and watch after Bella. Don't make me order you."

Sherlock breathed in sharply through his nose. He raised the violin to his shoulder, ready to play, and looked at his brother calmly.

"I'd like to see you try," Sherlock said.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows at his little brother. He leant down towards Sherlock in an attempt to look more threatening than he appeared. Though, it just made Bella resist the urge to roll her eyes at the obviously failed tactic.

"Think it over," Mycroft said, before straightening up. "And Bella is staying."

Sherlock just stared back at Mycroft unimpressed and a tad bit annoyed. He didn't want to babysit a girl whom he just met this morning. But he knew that she was harbouring a secret by the way Mycroft was intent on protecting her and the way she carried herself.

She was also very anxious, her leg bounced while she sat in John's chair and her eyes shifted every few seconds as if making sure there was no danger around her. Her nails had been bitten down as far as they could be as if her nerves had gotten the best of her. She stopped twirling, what looked like, an engagement ring and began to chew on her bottom lip, which was broken and looked like it bled a lot, most likely to calm herself subconsciously.

While Sherlock deduced Bella, Mycroft said goodbye to John.

When Sherlock realised that his brother was leaving, he began to repeatedly play a short and irritating sequence of notes. If it weren't for the love and respect that Bella had for classical instruments, she would've ripped the violin out of Sherlock's hands and beat him senseless with it.

But, it got Mycroft to leave the flat faster than he would've left otherwise. When he was gone, Sherlock did one final set of the annoying notes before lowering his violin. He still looked annoyed when Mycroft was gone but it was mostly since Bella was still around.

When Bella knew that Mycroft was out of earshot, she narrowed her eyes at Sherlock.

"Why'd you lie?" She asked Sherlock, surprising John for a millisecond before he fell back on his assumption that she was a Holmes.

Sherlock looked at Bella confused as the front door banged shut.

"I can tell when people lie, even the _best_ liars, and you lied to Mycroft, Sherlock," Bella said. "But what I can't figure out is why? I mean, going by the bullet holes in the wall, which I assume were _not_ caused by the _sane_ man, you have nothing to do. You're _bored._ So," Bella leant in closer to Sherlock as he watched her closely, "why'd you tell Mycroft you were busy when it's so _obvious_ you're not?"

Sherlock merely shrugged. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh!" John said, butting in and nodding his head. "Oh, I see." Sherlock's eyes drifted in John's direction but landed on the wall ridden with bullet holes behind him. "Sibling rivalry," John said with another nod. " _Now_ we're getting somewhere."

Sherlock's eyes meet John's as he opens his mouth to defend himself. But before he could deny anything – more like _everything_ – his phone started to ring. He irritably whipped his bow down again, nearly hitting Bella while doing so, and put it on the seat beside him and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket.

Once he retrieved the ringing phone, he answered with, "Sherlock Holmes." After a moment of listening, his expression intensified and Bella wished she had gone with Mycroft. "Of course, how could I refuse?" Sherlock stood up and switched off his phone. "Lestrade," he said, putting the violin onto the seat and heading for the door. "I've been summoned. Coming?"

Bella got up and followed Sherlock to the door but John was still sitting on the coffee table.

"If you want me to," John said, looking between the – who he assumed to be – siblings.

"Of course," Sherlock said, picking up his Belstaff, turning back to look at John with a smile on his face. "I'd be lost without my blogger."

►

After a very silent taxi ride to New Scotland Yard, the trio had finally made it. They found that Lestrade was waiting for them in the front of the building to lead them to wherever he needed them to be. But, before Lestrade let them come any further into the building, he waved his hand in the general direction of Bella.

"Who's _she?_ " Lestrade asked.

Sherlock was about to answer when Bella beat him to it.

 _"'She'_ is standing right here, ya know?" Bella asked with attitude, not liking to be talked about like she wasn't there. "And my name is Bella. Sherlock has to watch over me per his brother's orders."

Lestrade looked the girl over once before sighing. He just motioned for the trio to follow him.

"You like the funny cases, don't you, Sherlock? The surprising ones?" Lestrade asked.

"Obviously," Sherlock responded.

"You'll love this. That explosion," Lestrade trailed off.

"Gas leak, right?" Bella asked.

Sherlock briefly exchanged passing glares with Sally Donovan as they all walked past her desk.

"No," Lestrade said, knocking Sherlock out of his glaring contest.

They had made their way into Lestrade's office at this point.

" _No?_ " Sherlock asked to make sure he heard correctly.

"No. Made to look like one," Lestrade confirmed.

"Neat," Bella said as John asked, "What?"

Sherlock stopped and stared down at a white envelope lying on a desk. Bella also noticed this and took an interest in the envelope. She tuned out everybody's conversation as she tried to notice distinct things about the envelope.

_Sherlock's name_

_Handwritten_

_Blue ink_

_Can't be regular ball point pen_

_Elegant handwriting pointing to a female_ _or a man with very girly handwriting_

The envelope was taken off the table by Sherlock and Bella was knocked out of her head. She watched him as he took the envelope across the room to another table which had an anglepoise lamp on it. She began to twirl the ring again.

It was a few seconds of Sherlock studying the envelope before he spoke out with his deductions.

"Nice stationery. Bohemian," Sherlock said.

"What?" Lestrade asked.

"From the Czech Republic," Bella answered for him.

"No fingerprints?" Sherlock asked.

"No," Lestrade said.

Bella noticed that Sherlock was looking even closer at the envelope.

"She must've used a fountain pen," Bella said.

"Quite so," Sherlock replied. "A Parker Duofold – iridium nib."

"' _She'?_ " John asked.

"Obviously," Sherlock said as if it were the most blatant thing in the world.

John struggled not to sigh at Sherlock. "Obviously."

"Sorry," Bella said out of habit, though also feeling slightly bad for John.

John nodded his head at her kindness.

Sherlock picked up a letter opener from the desk and carefully, almost methodically, slit the envelope open. He looked inside the envelope and his mouth opened a little bit in surprise as he reached in and took out a pink iPhone.

"But that's – that's the phone, the pink phone," John said shocked.

"What, from the Study in Pink?" Lestrade asked.

Bella was confused and stopped messing with her ring. "Study in _what?_ "

"Well," Sherlock said, ignoring Bella, "obviously, it's not the same phone but it's supposed to look like..." Sherlock stopped when he realised what Lestrade had said. He turned to face him with an annoyed look on his face.

At this point, Bella noticed that the woman Sherlock had glared at earlier walked into the office. She didn't like her, not for one second. Something about her was off.

"The Study in Pink?" Sherlock asked incredulously. "You read his blog?"

"Course I read his blog!" Lestrade said. "We _all_ do. D'you _really_ not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?"

Sally sniggered loudly. Bella's head snapped towards her and she glared harshly at the woman.

"No one asked _you_ ," Bella said harshly.

Sally, not in the mood to get confrontational especially in front of Lestrade, left the room leaving everybody to concentrate back on the phone.

"It isn't the same phone," Sherlock said. "This one's brand new." Sherlock inspected it, Bella watching him with great interest.

"Well, someone's gone to an awful lot of trouble to make it _look_ the same, then," Bella said.

"Which means your blog has a far wider readership," Sherlock said, throwing an accusatory look at John who tried his best to ignore it.

Sherlock switched the phone on and automatically got a voice alert.

"You have one new message," the female automated voice alert said.

The message played but there was no voice. It was just the unmistakable sound of the Greenwich pips. Four short pips played with one longer one following it.

"Is that it?" Bella asked.

"No. That's _not_ it," Sherlock said.

The phone beeped and Lestrade went across the room to look over Sherlock's shoulder.

"What the hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade asked annoyed. "An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!"

"It's a warning," Sherlock said, gazing thoughtfully into the distance.

"A warning?" John asked.

"Some secret societies," Bella said, "used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that. Five pips," Bella looked at Sherlock, somewhat concerned. "They're warning us it's gonna happen again."

Sherlock briefly looked down at the phone again before waving the phone about.

"I've seen this place before," he said, leaving the office.

"H-hang on," John said, following Sherlock. " _What's_ gonna happen again?" He asked Bella.

But this time, instead of the red head answering, Sherlock turned around to face the two and raised his hands dramatically.

" _Boom!_ " He said before heading off with John and Bella, and now Lestrade, behind him.

►

After another annoyingly silent taxi ride, the four of them ended up at 221 Baker Street. They all got out of the taxi and Sherlock unlocked the front door, leading the way inside. He bypassed the stairs towards his flat and headed along the corridor towards Mrs Hudson's front door.

Just as he reached it, he stopped and turned to the left where Bella assumed there was another door. Presumably heading to a basement flat. Bella walked over next to Sherlock and saw that on the door was '221C'.

Sherlock turned his head. "Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock called out loudly towards Mrs Hudson's front door.

In almost no time at all, Mrs Hudson came back out of her flat and handed Sherlock a set of keys. He had been examining the padlock attached to the door. Now, he took the keys from Mrs Hudson and began to unlock it.

"You had a look, didn't you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about your flat," Mrs Hudson said.

Sherlock wasn't paying attention, he was focused on the door's keyhole.

"The door's been opened recently," Sherlock said.

"No, can't be," Mrs Hudson said confused. "That's the only key."

Bella started to tune out the kind old woman, her head already starting to hurt from being around Sherlock. She watched as he pulled off the padlock and picked up another key before he put it in the door's handle. He turned the key and pulled the door open and went inside immediately. Bella followed right after him, then John, and then Lestrade who pulled the door closed behind him.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Sherlock – who was in the lead – pushed open the door to the living room and walked inside followed by everybody else. The room was basically bare except for the pair of trainers placed neatly in the middle of the floor.

"Shoes," John said.

Bella wanted to make a sarcastic retort but figured it wasn't the best time. Especially when she saw Sherlock starting to walk towards the trainers.

"She's a bomber, remember?" Bella asked, not wanting to be blown up because of Sherlock.

Sherlock stopped for a moment, making Bella believe that he wasn't going to go near them. But then he started to move towards the trainers again and Bella wanted to kill him. She began to mess with her ring. She watched as he crouched down, putting his hands on the floor and leaning forward. He lowered his body down as he moved closer to the shoes.

A moment later, a phone began to ring. Sherlock jumped a bit and closed his eyes momentarily before standing up all the way. He took off his glove and took out the pink iPhone from his coat pocket, looking down at the caller I.D. He paused for a second, Bella could only guess that it wasn't a good somebody before he switched on the speaker and held the phone a few inches in front of his mouth.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked softly.

The voice on the other end drew in a few shaky breaths before speaking in a shaky voice.

"H-hello...sexy," The female voice said.

John and Lestrade exchanged a puzzled look as the woman sobbed. Bella just watched the phone intently, hoping that this wasn't who she thought it was pulling the strings.

"Who's this?" Sherlock asked as she sobbed.

"I've...sent you...a little puzzle...just to say hi," the voice said again.

Bella began to bite her lip nervously and began to pull at the ring on her finger.

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" Sherlock asked.

"I-I'm not...crying," the voice said shakily, "I'm typing...and this...stupid...bitch...is reading it out."

The woman on the other end sobbed again and Bella felt the almost too familiar feeling of a panic attack coming.

"The curtain rises," Sherlock said softly, looking out into the distance.

"What?" John asked.

"Nothing," Sherlock quickly said.

"No, what did you mean?" John pestered.

Sherlock half turned his head toward the trio, spotting Bella starting to have a hard time breathing.

"I've been expecting this for some time," he said.

"Twelve hours to solve...my puzzle, Sherlock...or I'm going...to be...so naughty."

The phone went dead and Bella fell to the ground on her knees. John quickly went to her side to make sure she was alright but Bella wasn't paying attention. All she could think about was how hard she tried to get away from him and how she would never be able to.

Sherlock also took an interest when the, seemingly, calm and collected woman fell to the ground with terror written on her face. He had a hunch that she, too, knew what was going on but he didn't want to pester it out of her. She would probably not make any sense, anyway, in the state she was in.

"Calm down, calm down," John said, noticing signs of a panic attack. "Breathe, Bella, _breathe._ "


	4. TWO

 

Sherlock, wanting to investigate the shoes further, decided that he needed to go to St. Bart's. John, seconding the change of location due to Bella, decided to join Sherlock. Lestrade, however, didn't.

So, when the trio got to the hospital, Sherlock headed to the lab and John went to find Molly.

"John," Bella said, getting her bearings together, "I'm _fine._ "

"I didn't know that the Holmes family could have panic attacks," John said.

Bella stopped walking in the middle of the corridor and looked at John.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bella asked.

John turned around, seeing the confused look on her face, and walked back to Bella.

"I just assumed-"

"Yea, well don't. Assuming makes an ass out of you and me," Bella said. "Besides, I'm not Sherlock or Mycroft's sister even though Mycroft does like to treat me like one."

"Really?" John asked, astounded that Mycroft actually had a heart. "Why?"

"I don't know. But I have a feeling like he's trying to make up for something that happened in the past."

John nodded at this and took another glance at Bella.

"Are you sure that you're alright?" John asked.

Bella smiled at his concern. "Yes, John, I'm good now." And then, Bella felt her stomach grumble and she smiled. "Hey, I'm gonna go get some crisps."

John looked at her quizzically. "I thought Mycroft said for you to stay with Sherlock, or at least me."

Bella waved her hand at John. "Nah, he just meant when we were outside in unsecured locations. I'm safe here." Bella walked past John. "I'll be up in the lab in a few minutes. Want some?"

"Yea, sure. Why not?" John said before turning back and heading towards the lab.

Bella walked along the corridor and made a left where she found there were vending machines at the end of the hall. Bella walked down to them and inserted some money before getting two bags of crisps.

She turned back and headed back towards the lab. She opened the door without looking up.

"Hey, John, I have your-"

Bella stopped mid sentence when she saw, standing next to Sherlock and in front of John, was James Moriarty. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest harshly and loudly as she dropped both bags of crisps and ran back out the lab. She couldn't believe that she saw James after all this time!

Her heart was pounding so badly that she thought it would pop out of her chest as she ran out of the hospital. She gasped for breath, trying to fill her burning lungs, as she leant against the outside wall. All the cruel moments that she had had with James filled her mind and it was tearing her apart.

She almost took off the ring and threw it into the streets but she didn't. She remembered feeling butterflies in her stomach when she saw him again for the first time in three years. But her mind brought back every terrible thing he had ever done to her and in front of her.

And their daughter.

Violet was the major reason why Bella had decided to leave James. If it had been just Bella, she probably wouldn't have left him. Too afraid of not being able to live on her own.

But having Violet...that made her fight. She didn't want her daughter to grow up watching her father be the cruel tyrant that he was. So, she left.

"Bella?" Bella heard John call out.

Bella lifted her head to look at the worried look on John's face.

"Yea?" Bella asked.

"Are you alright? You just ran out of there," John said.

"I'm-I'm fine," Bella waved him off. "Where're we going now?"

"Back to the flat," Sherlock said, hailing a cab.

"Why?" Bella asked as they all got into the cab.

"Because, in nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident," Sherlock said, not exactly answer Bella's question. He showed the two of them the front page of a newspaper on his phone. "You two wouldn't remember it. Why should you?"

"But you do?" Bella asked confused.

"Yes."

"Something fishy about it?" John asked.

"Nobody thought so – nobody except me," Sherlock said. "I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers."

"Started young, didn't you?" John asked.

"The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong, something I couldn't get out of my head."

Bella recognised the name, Carl Powers, from somewhere but she couldn't remember where.

"What?" John asked.

"His shoes," Sherlock said.

"Shoes?" Bella asked. "What about them?"

"They weren't there," Sherlock said. "I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes."

Sherlock leant down and picked up an evidence bag containing said trainers.

"Until now," Sherlock finished.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Bella couldn't help but keep thinking about seeing James again. It startled her and unnerved her. At least her daughter was safe because Mycroft had people watching her and protecting her.

When they got back to the flat, Sherlock shut himself up in the kitchen and Bella laid down on the sofa. John took to pacing in the living room. He needed to do something.

"Go ask if you can help," Bella said. "I don't need to keep hearing you pacing."

John nodded at her suggestion and went to have a conversation with Sherlock. Bella closed her eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep where she dreamed about James and him coming to get her. She dreamed that he was holding her hostage and beating her up again. That he had taken their – her – daughter and made Violet watch as he beat Bella up.

Bella woke up with a gasp and sat straight up. She looked around and noticed that it had become dark and she wondered how much more time was left. She got up and walked into the kitchen to watch Sherlock work.

"Hello, dear," Mrs Hudson said to her as she walked through the kitchen door with a tray holding a couple of mugs.

Bella grabbed the tray off Mrs Hudson with a grateful smile and put them on the kitchen table. Sherlock looked up.

"Poison."

"What are you going on about?" Mrs Hudson asked as Bella turned to look at him quizzically.

Sherlock slammed his hands down on the table shouted, "Clostridium botulinum!"

Mrs Hudson and Bella both cringed but only Mrs Hudson left.

"Where's John?" Bella asked, beginning to mess with the ring again.

"Right here," John said, coming in from the living room.

"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!" Sherlock shouted, looking round at John. John just stared blankly at Sherlock while Bella nodded her head in realisation. "Carl Powers!"

"Oh, wait, are you saying he was murdered?" John asked.

Sherlock stood up and walked over to where laces hung, presumably from the trainers.

"Remember the shoelaces?" Sherlock asked. John and Bella both hummed in acknowledgement. "The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles and he drowns."

"Why didn't it show up on the autopsy?" Bella asked, feeling like she already knew the answer from somewhere.

"It's virtually undetectable-"

_"He was my first kill."_

_"You're first what?!" Bella shouted._

_"Carl Powers. I poisoned him because he wouldn't stop laughing at me and how different I was."_

_"But-but-"_

_"Please, understand."_

"But there were still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet," Sherlock said, having gone from in front of the laces to in front of his computer. He was typing and Bella read,

_FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989). Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St._

Sherlock sent the message and straightened up.

"That's why they had to go," Bella said in realisation.

"So how do we let the bomber know-" John tried to say.

"Get his attention," Sherlock cut him off.

"Oh," John said.

Sherlock looked at his watch. "Stop the clock."

"The killer kept the shoes all these years," John said.

"Yes," Sherlock said, looking at John. "Meaning..."

"He's our bomber," Bella said.

Sherlock noticed how Bella was a bit nervous but didn't comment as the pink phone rang. He hurried over to it and turned on the speaker.

There was sobbing. "Well done, you." There was a pause. "Come and...get me."

"Where _are_ you? Tell us where you are," Sherlock said firmly and loudly.

The woman told them where she was and John quickly phoned Lestrade. Bella couldn't help but feel relieved that they had saved someone.

John looked over at her about an hour later.

"Bella, Mycroft said he's coming to get you tomorrow morning," John said.

Bella looked at John confused. "What? Why?" Then realisation dawned on Bella. "Don't tell me. You told Mycroft about what happened with me and he's getting me tomorrow to talk to me and make sure that I'm fine."

John nodded his head. "Yeah."

"How could you tell Mycroft John?" Bella asked.

"Well, he asked and it just came out."

Bella just groaned and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to sleep on your couch for tonight," Bella said before walking into the living room and falling onto the couch.

"Okay," was all John said before he left for his room.

►

It was morning when Sherlock rudely woke Bella up.

"My brother's here for you," was all he said before he and John left the flat.

Bella groaned, stretching her limbs out as she got up and off the couch. She cracked her neck and her knuckles as she walked around the living room. She wanted to put off going with Mycroft for just a little bit longer. She didn't want to deal with the questions that would most likely ensue.

"Mommy!" Bella heard her daughter's American voice call out.

Bella's eyes widened. "Violet!" Bella said happily as she extended her arms and Violet ran into them. "Oh! I'm so happy to see you!"

"I'm so happy to see you too, mommy!" Violet said as she hugged her mother.

Bella looked up to see Mycroft ascending the stairs into the living room.

"Thank you, Mycroft, for bringing Violet here," Bella said as she picked Violet up and settled her on her hip.

"It was no problem, Bella," Mycroft said. "Now, can we get going?"

"I thought we'd stay here," Bella said. "I think there might be another one that'll keep the boys occupied."

"You mean, you think he's here?" Mycroft asked, slightly worried for Bella and her four – almost five – year old daughter.

"I don't think," Bella said as she felt Violet nuzzle into her neck, "I _know_. I saw him, Mycroft. I saw him with my own two eyes," She shivered with bad memories. "He's here and the boys are in danger. We all are."

"What about," Mycroft trailed off, nodding his head to Violet who seemed to have fallen asleep on Bella's shoulder.

"I want her under maximum security. I don't want anybody but you, me, and select others being able to get to her," Bella said very seriously.

Mycroft nodded his head at her request. "That can be arranged."

"Good," Bella said. "But for today, I will be spending it with my daughter." Violet then let out a few snores that made Bella smile. " _After_ she takes a nap."

Bella gently put Violet down on the couch and then her cell phone rang. She glared at the contraption that sat on the table.

She grabbed it and answered it.

"Hello?" She asked in a low tone to avoid waking up her daughter.

"Enjoying the day with my brother so far?" Sherlock asked.

Bella looked confused. "The day hasn't even started, Sherlock."

Mycroft's expression went from interested to bored in half a second.

"Well, I need your help."

" _My_ help?"

"Yes, _your_ help. We're heading down to the river. I'll text you the exact address," Sherlock said before he hung up.

Bella looked at the phone and scoffed. "Like I'll help him." Bella put down the phone and walked over to her daughter's sleeping body. "I'm spending the day with-"

Her phone went off and Mycroft went over to it to have a look. "Well, Bella, I really think that you might want to-"

"No, Mycroft!" Bella said loudly before looking down at her daughter and wincing at her own loudness. She looked back at Mycroft with a fierceness only a mother could possess. "I'm staying with my daughter," she said in a lower voice.

Mycroft nodded his head. "Alright, I will be on the stairs if you need me."

Mycroft left the living room and walked to the stairs. Bella turned her attention back to her daughter.

_"You know, she has your hair," Bella said to a young James Moriarty._

_James smiled at his fiancée and then down at his daughter. He looked the one-year-old over and then looked at Bella._

_"She has your smile," he said before bringing Bella in for a kiss. "I never want this to end."_

_"Neither do I," Bella said with a wide smile. "I love you, James."_

_"Promise me?" James asked._

_"Promise."_

Bella snapped out of her memory when she felt something wet run down her cheek. She hurried to wipe it away, realising that she was starting to cry, afraid someone might see. She didn't want anyone to see, especially her daughter. She began to twist her ring as she looked at her daughter and how much she had grown.

It felt like a lifetime ago that she was with James and that he was so sweet. But everything changed when he became head of a criminal empire. He became nasty and mean and horrible. Someone Bella didn't recognise.

"Isabella," Bella heard Mycroft say her full name, "there's someone here to see you."

Bella looked confused and walked out of the living room and down the stairs to the front door where stood in front of her was-

"Seb!" Bella gasped and ran to hug him.

"Hey, Iz," Sebastian Moran said, hugging Bella back. "Long time, no see."

Bella smiled widely at her old friend. "Yeah, long time." Bella pulled away. "Come in."

"Bella, I don't think-"

"Mycroft, Seb isn't going to hurt me. He's the one who helped me get away and find you," Bella said before letting Sebastian into 221B.

She led Sebastian up the stairs and into the living room where Violet was still snoozing away. Sebastian smiled down at the little girl and then smiled at her mother.

"You know, she looks more and more like you every time I see her," Sebastian said.

Bella smiled warmly. "I'm grateful for that. I don't need her to look like _him._ "

Sebastian's smile turned to a pity smile and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know, he misses you."

At that, Bella ripped herself from his touch and looked at him with wide eyes.

"What did you just say?" Bella breathed out.

"I said that he misses you. You and Violet."

Bella felt fear coursing through her veins as she moved to stand in front of her sleeping daughter. Sebastian just laughed.

"You didn't think that I could cut connections with him, now did you?" Sebastian laughed.

"Mycroft!" Bella yelled. But Mycroft didn't respond. "Mycroft!"

Sebastian kept laughing. "He's not going to answer. I knocked him out." Sebastian stepped forward but Bella held her ground in front of Violet. "All he wants is to see you and Violet again."

"No," she spat. "I will _never_ let him near Violet!"

"Shouldn't Violet grow up with her father?" Sebastian asked teasingly.

"Not that monster." Bella glared at him. "Sorry, Seb, it isn't personal."

"Wha-"

Bella punched Sebastian in the gut and he became slightly winded. Bent over, Bella quickly put him in a sleeper hold. Sebastian was quick to regain himself, though, and he threw Bella off him and onto the ground. Her head bounced off the ground, her vision's edge going black. She struggled to get back up when she saw Sebastian going for Violet.

"Not my daughter!" Bella yelled.

Bella ran full speed for Sebastian and knocked him over. She straddled his stomach and elbowed him in the temple and, though it disoriented him, it did nothing more. Sebastian put his hands around her neck and started to squeeze.

"I will drag you and Violet to him awake or not," Sebastian growled.

Bella, who thought about her daughter and only her daughter, used her strength to headbutt Sebastian. Sebastian let go of Bella's throat in pain and she quickly karate chopped the base of his throat. Sebastian began to gasp for breath, finding it hard to breathe.

Bella scrambled off Sebastian and scooped up her daughter.

"Mum?" Violet asked, waking up at the sudden disturbance. "What's going on?"

Bella quickly picked up her phone and ran down the stairs. "Nothing, sweetheart. We're going to go meet up with a...an acquaintance of mine," Bella said, getting outside and hailing a cab.

"Where to?" The cabbie asked.

"St. Bart's," Bella said the first place off the top of her head. She quickly unlocked her phone and called Sherlock.

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock," Bella said, out of breath, "I'm heading to St. Bart's. I want you to meet me there."

"I'm already on my way there. Can I ask _why?_ " Sherlock asked.

Bella briefly looked at her daughter sitting next to her before looking straight ahead.

"It'll make sense when I get there," Bella said, hanging up on him.

►

Once the cab arrived at St. Bart's, Bella paid and ushered her daughter out of the cab and into the hospital.

"Who are we going to visit?" Violet asked.

"Like I said, an acquaintance of mommy's."

Bella led her daughter to the lab where Sherlock was.

"Sherlock," Bella said strongly, gaining his attention, "I'd like you to meet my daughter, Violet."

Sherlock's eyes went wide as he looked at the little girl and Bella to find similarities. He found some but he also found similarities to someone else that he had met but he couldn't place it.

"Hello!" Violet said happily. "I'm Violet."

Bella smiled down at her daughter before looking back up at Sherlock.

"We need to lay low with you. Your brother...something's happened and I need to stay with someone I know can protect my daughter."

"What about yourself?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh," Bella said, "yea, me too."

Sherlock noted that Bella only thought about her daughter and thought about herself only as an afterthought. It was strange to see her like this, even though he had only met her yesterday. He had only seen the hard side of her, not this caring side.

"Well," Sherlock said, turning back to his work, "I've got a case to work on."

"Right," Bella said.

"Sherlock-" A woman in her late twenties came into the lab. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know-"

Bella smiled. "You must be Molly," she said, holding out a hand for Molly to shake which Molly did. "John wanted me to see you before when he thought I wasn't doing well. But, it's nice to meet you properly first."

Molly just smiled at Bella before turning her attention to the small child. "Who's this?"

"My daughter, Violet," Bella said proudly, her daughter not causing any mess. "Violet, this is Miss Molly."

"Oh, no," Molly waved her hand, "just Molly." Molly bent down to Violet's height. "You are adorable, you know that?"

"I know," Violet said cheekily.

Bella, getting flashes of James, scowled at her daughter. " _Violet,_ what have I told you before?" Bella asked sternly.

Violet's look was cast to the floor. "To be polite."

"Good," Bella nodded her head. "Food?"

"Yeah!" Violet smiled and jumped up and down.

"I thought that I could use your help, Bella," Sherlock said with a slight frown.

"But Violet-"

"I can watch Violet," Molly said, interrupting their conversation.

"Are you sure?" Bell asked hesitantly. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all," Molly said with a smile. Then she looked down at Violet. "Come on, Violet. Let's let your mummy work."

Violet nodded her head and went with Molly to wherever they were going. Bella swiftly turned around to Sherlock and walked over to him.

"So, what do we got?" Bella asked.

"A missing man with an abandoned car with blood all over the seat," Sherlock said, putting a large drop of blood in a Petri dish.

"So, what are we thinking?" Bella asked.

"I'm thinking that he must've left the country," Sherlock said before grabbing a bottle out of a small equipment bag. "But I have to confirm one thing first."

Sherlock filled an eyedropper with liquid from the small bottle. He then bent down to the dish and squeezed out a drop of liquid onto the blood. It started to fizz and Sherlock straightened up.

"What?" Bella asked confused, not good in Chemistry.

Before Sherlock could explain, the pink phone rang with a caller I.D. that said: "Blocked." Sherlock and Bella looked at each other before he picked up and put it on speaker.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked.

"The clue's in the name. Janus Cars," the voice on the other end said tearfully.

"Why would you be giving me a clue?" Sherlock asked.

"Why does anyone do anything? Because I'm bored. We were _made_ for each other, Sherlock."

"Then talk to me in your own voice," Sherlock said softly.

"Patience. Say hello...to Isabella...for me." The voice said before the line went dead.

Bella went visibly paler when she was mentioned. She started to play with her ring at a more frantic pace as if she wasn't aware she was doing it. Sherlock immediately looked over at her to make sure that he heard right and his thoughts were confirmed. He had, in fact, heard her name coming out of the hostage's mouth on the other end of the phone. But it puzzled him as to why and he then realised that he wasn't going to get an answer from her.

So, instead, he turned his attention to the fizzing blood mixed with a chemical in the Petri dish. He picked it up and looked at it more closely, to make sure he was seeing things correctly. He then smiled.

"Come on," Sherlock said, putting the dish back down.

Bella looked at him perplexed as she stopped playing with her ring. "Where?"

"To the car pound. I figured it out!" Sherlock said, walking towards the door.

"But what about Violet?" Bella asked, following Sherlock.

"I trust Molly to watch her and so should you. I don't trust many people," Sherlock said before leaving the lab and walking down the hall.

Bella was torn. Did she go after Sherlock and caught up on what she missed? Or did she pick her daughter up and bring her to the, hopefully awake, Mycroft? The mother in her yelled, _"Your daughter is more important than a stupid case!"_ The human, Bella side of her screamed, _"Bella is fine! Sherlock trusts Molly and so should you! Do this!"_

 _"Bella!"_ Sherlock yelled as he walked away.

In that second, Bella made up her mind and ran after Sherlock to catch up.

_►_

Sherlock, John, Bella, and Lestrade all ended up at the Police Car Pound standing around Ian Monkford's rented car.

"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked.

"How much?" Lestrade echoed back. "About a pint."

"Not 'about.' _Exactly_ a pint," Sherlock said. "That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's but it's been frozen."

"Frozen?" Lestrade asked.

"There are clear signs," Sherlock said as John paced the back-end length of the car. Bella was getting annoyed watching him. "I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats."

" _Who_ did?" John asked.

"Janus Cars," Sherlock replied, looking at John who stopped to stand on his right. "The clue's in the name."

"The god with two faces?" Bella asked in amusement.

Lestrade looked to his left at her with an eyebrow raised. He didn't like how she was enjoying this like Sherlock. One was bad enough, but two?

"Exactly," Sherlock said.

"Brilliant," Bella smiled.

Sherlock gave Bella the slightest smile before looking at Lestrade.

"They provide a very special service. If you've got any kind of a problem – money troubles-"

"-Bad marriage," Bella inputted.

"Whatever," Sherlock gave her a pointed look that said 'shut up' before looking back at Lestrade, "Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble. Financial, at a guess – he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out."

"But if he were to vanish," Bella said, pacing a bit, "if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat..." she trailed off.

"So, where is he?" John asked, looking back and forth between Sherlock and Bella.

Sherlock closed the open car door. "Colombia."

 _"Colombia?!"_ Lestrade exclaimed.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Okay, Sherlock, you may be good but-"

"Mr Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet," Sherlock cut off Bella.

They walked around to the front of the car.

"Is that _all?_ I mean, he could've had that for a while," Bella said.

Sherlock gave her another 'shut up' look before continuing. "He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed."

"So, he took a trip outside the city," Bella said, still trying to poke holes in his deduction even though she knew with the look in his eyes that he was right.

"That, plus his arm," Sherlock said, ignoring Bella this time.

"His arm?" Lestrade asked.

"Kept scratching it. Obviously irritating him, and bleeding," Sherlock replied.

"Why?" Bella asked.

"Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that distance. Conclusion: he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Colombia. Mrs Monkford cashed in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars," Sherlock said.

" _M-Mrs_ Monkford?" John asked puzzled.

"Oh yes. She's in on it too," Sherlock said happily. Lestrade lowered his head with a look of amazement on his face. "Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best." Sherlock turned to Bella and John. " _We_ need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved."

Sherlock turned and led the way for both John and Bella. He clenched his fists triumphantly at his sides as they went.

"I am on _fire!_ "

Bella rolled her eyes at Sherlock as they left the car pound.

"Well, Mr 'I'm on fire,' I need to go pick up my daughter," Bella said.

John whipped his head around to look at her. "You have a daughter?"

Bella opened her mouth to reply but Sherlock's voice came out instead.

"Yes she does have a daughter who is, right now, in the capable hands of Molly Hooper," Sherlock said, sparing a glance back at Bella. "You have no reason to worry."

Bella glared at Sherlock's back. "Sherlock, some very bad people are after my daughter and I and I need to get her to safety."

Sherlock stopped walking and turned to face her. "What bad people?"

She froze. The stare he had reminded her of James' stare whenever he was trying to figure out someone's weakness. It wasn't a pleasant look.

"Listen," Bella said, "I'm not going to tell you everything. Right now, my only thought is the safety of my daughter. I need to get her to Mycroft." Bella walked around Sherlock. "I will see you at the flat."

John sighed and shook his head. "No, I'm coming with you!"

Bella looked back at John as she got out to the road. "I don't need a chaperone."

"Mycroft will be _very_ angry if someone isn't with you," John said. "I'm coming," he said in a firm voice.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever."


	5. THREE

 

It was the next morning and Bella was rudely tossed off the couch by Sherlock. In his mind, it was the only way to wake her up. Bella groaned, heaving herself up off the floor and glaring daggers at Sherlock who was just watching her.

"Can't you ever just be _nice?_ " Bella spat at him as she hauled herself back onto the couch.

"Hmm, no," Sherlock said with a smirk. "Not until you explain everything to me."

Bella groaned again at the pain at the base of her neck. "You're the _one_ and _only_ Consulting Detective," Bella said as she tried to soothe the pain by rubbing it, "deduce me."

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at her, not used to get that kind of response. So, he sat down on the coffee table and looked at her.

"I noticed on the first day that I met you that you were hiding a secret that you are very nervous and anxious about," Sherlock said, putting his hands in a prayer form in front of his face. "You calm yourself by biting your lip, a habit you must've picked up in your early adulthood because you only notice it when you cause your lip to bleed. You are also very observant but not _close_ enough to my level. You get irritated easily by people who make fun of others because you watched it happen - _possibly_ because it happened to someone close to you; _more likely_ because it happened to you _directly._

"I happened to notice sitting on your left middle finger is an engagement ring. It's _obviously_ yours and it _obviously_ carries some sort of _sentiment_ otherwise you wouldn't wear it. You haven't worn it on the proper finger for some time as there is almost no indent on your ring finger. My guess is that _he_ broke it off with _you_ which is why you keep the ring, to remind yourself of the times with the man.

"I also noticed that Mycroft is _very_ protective of you which means you must be of _some_ importance otherwise he wouldn't care. He wouldn't go to such lengths to make sure just _anybody_ was protected and he _certainly_ wouldn't leave them in _my_ care. No, there's something _about_ you that Mycroft must protect."

Bella tried not to shift under his knowing gaze. She wasn't willing to give him satisfaction like everybody else did. She needed to remain strong under 'The Great Consulting Detective's' eyes or else he might just find out _everything._

"And then there's your daughter," Sherlock said.

"My _daughter?_ " Bella echoed bemused.

"Yes, the lovely young girl named Violet." Sherlock shifted a bit before returning to his original position. "Violet comes first and foremost in your mind in areas of protection and safety. I had to _remind_ you about yourself yesterday because it seemed as if you had forgotten about yourself. I _would_ say that was just the "maternal instinct" but there's something _else_ there. Something-"

 _"Alright!"_ Bella shouted, abruptly getting up from the couch and walking away from Sherlock. "I've heard enough. It's _my_ turn." Bella turned back around to face Sherlock. "You're Mycroft's younger brother, which I already knew. You play classical music because it soothes you _and_ helps you concentrate. You only play your violin in front of your brother because he can't play such an instrument and you do it to mock him."

Sherlock's expression gave nothing away, but his eyes did. It was something Bella was accustomed to seeing; confusion, amazement, and a bit of anger for knowing these things.

"You're a drug addict, it's obvious by the way you crave high adrenaline activities. That, and the way your sleep and eat."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Sherlock asked.

"You _don't,_ " Bella said. "You rarely sleep. I hear you sometimes, just pacing or playing the violin or both. And I haven't _once_ seen you eat. Those are _two_ signs of drug use but then again, it could just be that you never think about it because you're too focused on your job. And then there's your _constant_ need to prove you're right. It must stem from childhood trauma where people never listened to what you had to say. That's why you're always so _keen_ to prove yourself."

Bella took a deep breath and a long look at Sherlock before raising her eyebrows.

"Shall I continue?" She asked. "Or have you had your _fill_ of your own medicine?"

Sherlock just stared at her, trying to figure out something else but he kept coming up blank. All of Bella's walls were back up, steeling herself from Sherlock's gaze.

"I'm starving," John said, coming into the living room. "Why don't we – what's going on?"

"Nothing, John," Sherlock said, getting up. "I'll go get changed."

Sherlock headed back to his room before shutting his door loudly. John turned to look at Bella.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing, John," Bella said, repeating Sherlock. "Mycroft gave me a change of clothes. I'll be back in a bit."


	6. FOUR

 

The trio went to a café that wasn't Speedy's. John and Bella sat on one side of the table while Sherlock sat on the other. John was tucking into a cooked breakfast while Sherlock was drumming his fingers impatiently on the table waiting for the pink phone lying on the table to ring. Bella was surveying everybody else in the small café to stave off the boredom.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock asked John, watching him eat.

"Mmm," John said before swallowing. "You realise we've hardly stopped for breath since this thing started?" He ate another forkful of food and then looked thoughtful. He swallowed before saying, "Has it occurred to you-"

"Probably," Sherlock interrupted.

Bella kicked his shin harshly underneath the table and he hissed.

"No," John said, not paying attention to what had just happened, "has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope; breaking into the other flat; the dead kid's shoes – it's all meant for you."

Sherlock let a small smile grace his face. "Yes, I know."

Bella kicked him again and Sherlock glared at her.

"Is it him, then? Moriarty?" John asked.

Bella's body tensed up at the name, which Sherlock caught. "Perhaps," he said.

The pink phone beeped a message alert. Sherlock looked down at it and switched it on. Two short Greenwich pips followed by a longer one sounded. Once Sherlock got a look at the picture of the smiling, middle-aged woman, he flipped the phone so that Bella and John could see.

"That could be _anybody,_ " Sherlock said.

"Well, it _could_ be, yeah. Lucky for you two," John said, wiping his mouth with the napkin, "I've been more than a little unemployed."

"What do you mean?" Bella asked.

"Lucky for you two, Mrs Hudson and I watch far too much telly," John replied.

He stood up, walked behind Bella's chair and up to the counter. He picked up a remote control and turned the small television that was hung on the wall on. He changed the channels a couple of times before he stopped. Sherlock and Bella both watched the television as the woman from the photograph appeared on the screen.

The woman on the TV gestured to someone just off-screen. "Thank you, Tyra! Doesn't she look lovely, everybody, _now?_ "

The pink phone rang and Bella quickly got out of her seat and moved over to the seat next to Sherlock. She nodded at him to pick up and he angled the phone so that they both could hear.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked.

"This one," an old woman with a Yorkshire accent said over the phone, "is a bit...defective." Her speech was slow as if she were listening rather than reading. "Sorry. She's blind. This is...a funny one."

John walked back to the table and watched the two in front of him as they listened to the phone.

"I'll give you...twelve hours," the woman said.

Sherlock watched John as he sat down and asked into the phone, "Why are you doing this?"

"I like...to watch you...dance." When she finished speaking she gasped and sobbed in terror.

Bella felt her heart clench. _Now he was going after the elderly?_ Bella was terrified that she and Violet were next. She was terrified that, unlike last time, there would be nothing she could do about it.

Sherlock lowered the phone and shook his head at John before he dropped the phone on onto the table. He went to look at the TV but stopped at Bella.

"Bella, are you alright?" Sherlock asked softly.

"Violet," Bella breathed before looking into Sherlock's glasz ** _*_** eyes. "He might go after Violet and me next."

Sherlock's expression hardened. "You have to tell me who he _is_ so I can help, Bella."

"Oh, Sherlock," Bella said, tears coming to her eyes, "he's the devil incarnate."

►

After Bella called Mycroft to make sure that Violet was safe and secure, the trio headed over to St. Bart's morgue. They needed to see Connie Prince's body and they were meeting up with Lestrade to do so. Lestrade met them near the morgue and lead the trio into the room, reading from a file he had as they went.

"Connie Prince, fifty-four. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. Did you see it?" Lestrade asked.

"No," Sherlock and Bella replied in unison as they walked up to the, mostly, covered dead body.

"Very popular. She was going places," Lestrade said.

"Not anymore," Bella replied.

"So, dead two days," Sherlock said. "According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound."

The trio looked at the deep cut in the webbing between her right thumb and index finger.

"Tetanus bacteria..."

Bella tuned out the rest of their conversation as she examined the body even closer. She saw a few scratches on the upper right arm which looked like claw marks. She then looked at the upper chest and went up to the face, seeing something on the forehead just above the dead woman's nose.

"Sherlock," Bella said as she held out a hand. "Magnifier, please."

Sherlock took the magnifier out of his coat pocket and handed it over. Bella quickly opened the magnifier and looked at the forehead where she saw tiny pinpricks.

"John?" Bella asked.

"Mmm," John replied.

"The cut on her hand: it's deep; would have bled a lot, right?" Bella asked.

"Yeah," John said.

Sherlock, understanding what she was trying to get at, nodded his head. "How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?" He asked.

"Eight, ten days," John said.

Sherlock and Bella exchange a grin and both turn to John. They wait for him to put all the pieces they gave him together and it doesn't take very long.

"The cut was made later," John said.

"After she was dead?" Lestrade asked.

"Must have been," Sherlock said.

"The only question is, how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?" Bella asked.

"You want to help, right?" Sherlock asked John.

"Of course," John said.

"Connie Prince's background – family history, everything. Give us data," Sherlock said.

"Right," John replied before turning and leaving the room.

Sherlock and Bella looked down at the body one more time before turning and heading for the door as well.

"There's something else that we haven't thought of," Lestrade said.

"Is there?" Sherlock asked casually.

"Yes. Why is he _doing_ this, the bomber?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock and Bella stopped, keeping their backs to Lestrade, both looking a little anxious.

"If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?"

"Good Samaritan," Sherlock said nonchalantly over his shoulder.

They both tried to leave but Lestrade persisted.

"Who press-gangs suicide bombers?"

" _Bad_ Samaritan," Bella said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"I'm – I'm serious, guys," Lestrade said, both Sherlock and Bella looking at him. "Listen, Sherlock, I'm cutting you slack here; I'm trusting the two of you – but out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in Semtex and is just waiting for you two to solve the puzzle. So just tell me, what are we dealing with?"

Sherlock tried to keep the smile off his face, but it slipped.

"Something new," he said and walked out with Bella in tow.

►

It was several hours later that Sherlock, Lestrade, and Bella were all at 221B Baker Street. John was still gathering the data that Sherlock wanted while Sherlock was becoming obsessed with what he put up on the wall behind the sofa. He had placed all kinds of paperwork up: maps, photographs of Connie Prince (alive and dead), photographs of Carl Powers, press cuttings and various sheets of paper with notes scribbled on them. Pieces of string that Bella found were pinned against the wall, linking things together.

Sherlock was pacing back and forth in front of the sofa while Lestrade and Bella watched him from several centimetres behind him.

"Connect, connection, connection. There _must_ be a connection," Sherlock said under his breath. He stopped pacing, letting Bella and Lestrade take a few steps to stand next to him, as he gestured towards various spots on the display on the wall while he spoke.

"Carl Powers, killed twenty years ago. The bomber _knew_ him; _admitted_ that he knew him. The bomber's iPhone was in stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. What's he doing? Working his way round the world? Showing off?"

Bella wanted to say that showing off was basically his motive when the pink iPhone rang in Sherlock's pocket. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the caller I.D. before switching on the speaker.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Joining the...dots," the old woman said and sobbed. "Three hours...boom...boom." She cried in terror before the phone went dead.

Sherlock looked at Bella for a moment, sharing a knowing look with her, before putting the phone back in his pocket. He put his hands back in prayer position in front of his mouth, concentrating on the wall in front of him.

Just a short time later, Mrs Hudson had come up and decided to join the three of them. She, too, looked at the wall with Lestrade and Bella while Sherlock was on the phone with Home Secretary calling in a favour.

"It was a real shame," Mrs Hudson said. "I liked her. She taught you how to do your colours."

Lestrade and Bella, who were both watching Sherlock, turned to Mrs Hudson.

"Colours?" Lestrade asked.

"You know," Mrs Hudson gestured down to her clothes, "what goes best with what. I should never wear cerise, apparently. Drains me."

Bella resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the older woman. She couldn't believe someone who was well into their years was still obsessed with their looks. Sherlock walked over to them and joined them, off the phone then.

"Who was that?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock stared at the wall. "Home Office."

"Home Office?" Lestrade and Bella asked surprised.

"Well, Home Secretary actually. Owes me a favour," Sherlock said.

Mrs Hudson was still looking at the wall. "She was a pretty girl but she messed about with herself too much. They _all_ do these days." Mrs Hudson then looked at Lestrade. "People can hardly move their faces. It's silly, isn't it?!"

Bella's mind began to turn when Mrs Hudson said that. It began to make sense to her. The tiny pinpricks in Connie's forehead, the way she still seemed to look the same over a period of years. The woman was having Botox put into her but what would cause her to die?

"That's the brother," Bella heard Mrs Hudson say in the haze of her fast-working mind. "No love lost there, if you can believe the papers."

Bella began to think that it was the brother. But then, wouldn't it be obvious and Sherlock had done something by now? Or was it someone else?

"Fan sites – indispensable for gossip," she heard Sherlock say.

"There's really only one thing we can do with that ensemble, don't you think, girls?" Connie's voice echoed in Bella's mind.

"I'm going to go get some air," Bella said before walking out of the flat and down the stairs.

She walked outside and breathed in the cold London air. It bit at her lungs but she was alright with that. She needed some air and some room to think. She could feel her brain not working as well as it ought to. Bella knew the cause of that was the stress of worrying about the safety of her daughter and herself with James around. She just couldn't keep from worrying and it was driving her up a wall.

Bella needed something to do. Something to occupy her mind that was worth the brain power.

"Come along, Bella," Sherlock said, scaring Bella as he walked out of the flat.

"Where're we going?" Bell asked, following Sherlock as he hailed a cab.

"To help John."

►

After doing some very odd things at the Prince residence, and being called the Three Stooges by Kenny Prince, they hurried out of the house and down the drive towards the main road. John chuckled to himself all the way and Bella looked at him like he had gone mad.

"Yes! Ooh, yes!" John exclaimed.

Sherlock smiled. "You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat."

"What? No, yes," John said. "Yeah, it _is._ It _must_ be. It's how they got the tetanus into her system. Its paws stink of disinfectant."

Sherlock was still smiling. "Lovely idea."

"No, he coated it onto the paws of her cat," John insisted and made Bella shake her head. "It's a new pet, bound to be a bit jumpy around her. A scratch is almost inevitable. She wouldn't have-"

"I thought of it the minute I saw the scratches on her arm," Sherlock said, interrupting John. "But it's too random and too clever for the brother."

John chuckled again. "He murdered his sister for her money."

"Did he?" Sherlock asked.

"Didn't he?" John and Bella asked, looking at Sherlock.

"No. It was revenge."

"Revenge?" John asked. "Who wanted revenge?"

"Raoul, the houseboy," Sherlock said. Bella looked at him weirdly. "Kenny Prince was the butt of his sister's jokes, week in, week out, a virtual bullying campaign."

"So, what? Kenny finally had enough and told Raoul to kill her?" Bella asked.

"No, he fell out with her badly," Sherlock said. "It's all on the website." He breathed in. "She threatened to disinherit Kenny. Raoul had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, so..."

John stopped and turned to him. "Wait. Wait," John said, stopping Sherlock and Bella. "Wait a second. What about the disinfectant, then, on the cat's claws?"

"Raoul keeps a very clean house," Sherlock said. "You came through the kitchen door, saw the state of that floor, scrubbed to within an inch of its life. _You_ smell of disinfectant now." At that, John pulled his jacket close to his nose and smelled it. "No, the cat doesn't come into it." Sherlock looked towards the main road. "Raoul's internet records do, though. Hope we can get a cab from here."

Sherlock walked off with Bella trailing him. John sighed in exasperation as he glared at Sherlock's back though he followed him nonetheless.

It was near night time by the time that the trio had gotten to New Scotland Yard and nobody had said anything the entire way. They had made a stop off at 221B Baker Street so that Sherlock could pick up a folder that he brandished to Lestrade as they all walked into the main office.

"Raoul de Santos is your killer," Sherlock said. "Kenny Prince's houseboy. Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince – it was botulinum toxin."

Everything in Bella's brain clicked and suddenly she was beginning to get angry. Sherlock put the folder on the desk. When Lestrade reached for it, Sherlock leant in closer to him.

"We've been here before. Carl Powers? Tut-tut," Sherlock said mockingly like he was enjoying this. Lestrade picked up the folder and began walking towards his office with Sherlock in tow. "Our bomber's repeated himself."

"So, how'd he do it?" Lestrade asked.

"Botox injection," Sherlock said.

"Botox?" Lestrade asked, turning back to Sherlock just outside of his office.

John and Bella walked over to the two and Bella glared at Sherlock.

"Botox is a diluted form of botulinum," Bella said angrily.

Sherlock was oblivious to her anger. "Among other things, Raoul de Santos was employed to give Connie her regular facial injections. My contact at the Home Office gave me the complete records of Raoul's internet purchases," Sherlock said and pointed to the folder in Lestrade's hands. "He's been bulk ordering Botox for months."

At this point, it wasn't just Bella that was getting angry; John was angry as well. Sherlock was oblivious to both party's feelings, though. For someone so smart, he was so clueless.

"Bided his time, then upped the strength to a fatal dose," Sherlock said.

"You sure about this?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm sure," Sherlock replied.

"Alright, my office," Lestrade said.

Lestrade turned and walked towards his office. Sherlock started to follow but both John and Bella stopped him.

"Hey, Sherlock. How long?" John asked.

"What?" Sherlock replied.

"How long have you known?" Bella said slowly, trying to calm herself down enough so that she didn't hit him.

"Well, this one was quite simple, actually, and like I said, the bomber repeated himself. _That_ was a mistake."

Sherlock tried to walk towards Lestrade's office but John and Bella stopped him again.

"No, but Sherl - the hostage - the _old woman,_ " Bella stressed.

"She's been there all this time," John said.

Sherlock looked at the two of them. "I _knew_ I could save her."

"Oh, Sherlock, I'm about ready to punch you," Bella said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I also knew that the bomber had given us _twelve_ hours. I solved the case quickly, that gave me time to get on with other things. Don't you _see_?"

"What I see is my fist in your face," Bella muttered.

"We're one up on him!" Sherlock said, electing to ignore Bella.

Sherlock walked into Lestrade's office, leaving John and Bella angry and frustrated at him. But, ultimately, they followed after him.

Shortly afterwards, Sherlock was sitting at Lestrade's desk with a laptop opened to _The Science of Deduction_ website. John stood on Sherlock's left, Lestrade on his right, and Bella stood in front of the desk leaning on it and looking down.

Sherlock quickly typed on the keyboard and sent the message:

_Raoul de Santos, the house-boy, botox._

As soon as he did, the pink phone on the desk beside the computer began to ring. Sherlock picked it up and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked.

Bella strained herself to hear the woman on the other end but she could only hear Sherlock.

"Tell us where you are. Address," Sherlock said.

There was a pause.

"No, no, no, no," he said urgently. Bella's head snapped up. "Tell me nothing about him. _Nothing._ "

There was a long pause before Sherlock's expression changed.

"Hello?" He asked harder.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.

"What happened?" John asked.

Slowly, staring ahead and past Bella, he lowered the phone from his ear and bit his lip. Lestrade realised that something bad must have happened and straightened up and sighed. John braced a hand on the back of Sherlock's chair.

Bella, though, was angry. She was furious.

He had won.

Sherlock had let him win.

Sherlock had lost.

He. Lost.

She slammed her hands on the desk, everybody in the room jumped and stared at her.

"You Bastard!" Bella yelled.

Bella stormed her way around the desk to Sherlock and John jumped out of her way. She grabbed Sherlock by his Belstaff coat and shook him.

"You could have saved her!" Bella yelled, shaking him. "But instead, you decided to play his _stupid_ game!"

Bella pulled Sherlock up out of the seat.

"Because of you, who knows how many people are dead!" She hissed at him. "All because you were _bored_ and wanted to play a _game._ "

"Bella, listen to me-"

"No, don't you go trying to make excuses," Bella shook her head, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "You could have stopped this. But...you...didn't," Bella growled at him. "You-"

"And what do you know that I don't know?" Sherlock glared at her. "How do I know that you aren't part of it?"

Bella smacked Sherlock so hard that he stumbled backwards and back into the chair. She leant down into his face.

"Don't, for one second, think you've got me figured out, Mr Holmes. I've been through things and seen things that would make you run the other way," Bella said in a scary calm voice. "So, don't _ever_ think I'm some stupid and predictable person."

"I've disappointed you," Sherlock said, looking her in the eyes.

Bella scoffed. "No, Mr Holmes, you're exactly who I expected you to be." She backed away. "A cold-hearted bastard who doesn't care about anybody or anything but yourself and your desires."

Bella looked at John and Lestrade who both looked at her with a mix of awe and fear. She took in a deep breath and exhaled.

"I'm leaving. Anybody have a problem with that?" Bella asked in a very scary calm voice.

John and Lestrade shook their heads; Sherlock didn't say anything. Bella turned on her heels and left the office, slamming the door behind her. She walked out of New Scotland Yard, her head held high not knowing where she was going.

All she knew was that she wanted to be far away from Sherlock. Even if Mycroft did get angry with her.

**_ \------------------ _ **  
  


* **Glasz -** _adj._ Relating to eye colour. A mix of blue, green, grey, and gold. Eyes change colours between aforementioned pigments.

_Example: Benedict Cumberbatch's eyes and your author's eyes_


	7. FIVE

 

For the next two days, Bella spent her time with her daughter. John had been keeping her updated via text with what he and the bastard were doing. Just the thought of Sherlock made Bella want to shoot somebody. But when she was with her daughter, everything felt right and calm.

It was only when John texted her that he was still investigating the Andrew West case alone did Bella decide to help. John texted her where he was and she got one of Mycroft's people to drive her to him. It took nearly twenty minutes and by the time she got there, she saw Sherlock walking up to John.

"So," Bella said loudly, catching both the boy's attention, "John, what have you found?"

"Well," John said, not being oblivious to the flash of pain that flickered across Sherlock's face when Bella ignored him, "There wasn't a ticket on his body but he was on the train. The points. He wasn't killed here."

Bella smiled at him. "Brilliant," she said. "Where to next, John?"

"I-uh-" John started.

"We've got a bit of burglary to do," Sherlock interrupted.

Shortly afterwards, the three of them walked along a street.

"The missile defence plans haven't left the country, otherwise Mycroft's people would have heard about it," Sherlock said. "Despite what people think, we do still have a Secret Service."

"Yeah, I know," John and Bella said at the same time.

"I've met them," John said before looking over at Bella. "When did you meet them?"

"Being under Mycroft's protection doesn't come without its perks," Bella smiled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "This means whoever stole the memory stick-"

"-can't sell it or doesn't know what to do with it," Bella interrupted. "I know, I've thought of that. My money is on the latter, though. Who wouldn't want to buy missile plans?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes again and looked up. "We're here."

"Where?" John asked.

Sherlock and Bella turned into the drive of a maisonette and trotted up the steps at the side of the building which lead to the front door of the flat 21A on the first floor. Sherlock started to rummage through his pocket while Bella stood there like this was an everyday thing.

"Sherlock! Bella!" John whispered urgently. "What if there's someone in?"

"There isn't," Sherlock said, entering the flat.

"And besides, even if there is, you can always shoot at them with the pistol you keep on you," Bella said casually as she entered the flat.

John's eyes widened at Bella's knowledge of him carrying a gun as he hurried into the flat and shut the door. They all trotted up the short flight of stairs and walked into the living room.

"Where are we?" John asked.

"Oh, sorry, didn't I say?" Sherlock said happily as he walked over to the window with Bella following him. "Joe Harrison's flat."

"Joe...?" John trailed off.

Sherlock pulled back the net curtain. He grinned at the sight outside. Bella looked over his shoulder, also noticing what was just outside and smiled.

"Brother of West's fiancée," Sherlock said.

Outside the window was a one-storey extension, the roof of which could be easily climbed onto from the window. The extension went all the way to the bottom of the garden which ended in a wall, and directly on the other side of the wall was the railway line.

"He stole the memory stick; killed his prospective brother-in-law," Bella said.

Dropping to his knees, Sherlock got out his magnifier and used it to slowly examine the edge of the window sill. Bella knelt down as well and took in the tiny, but visible, blood-red spots on the white paint. John walked across the room over to the two (who still weren't on speaking terms) and peered over their shoulders.

"Then why'd he do it?" John asked.

At the sound of the door unlocking, John straightened up. Sherlock and Bella stood up and turned to face whoever would be coming up the stairs.

"Let's ask him," Bella said.

She walked over to John and took his gun from the back of his jeans. John looked at her amazed as she walked quietly to the door of the living room as the front door slammed. Bella stepped out onto the landing just as Joe, wearing his courier gear, leant his bicycle against the wall.

When Joe looked up and saw Bella, he picked up the bike to use it as a weapon. Bella, annoyed, though, raised her right hand and pointed the pistol at him.

"Just don't," she said annoyed. For a moment, Joe kept coming but Bella scoffed amused. "I could literally blow your brains out right here, right now."

Joe halted and looked at her like she was crazy before he lowered the bike.

"Good," she said and lowered the pistol. "Follow me."

Joe leant his bike against the wall and followed Bella into the living room to John and Sherlock. She tossed John back his pistol which John caught.

"You didn't have to threaten him," John chastised.

Bella shrugged. "I'm just not in the mood right now." Bella looked at Joe and pointed to the sofa. "Sit."

Joe, a bit scared of the red-headed Scottish girl, quickly sat down.

"Andrew West. We know," John said.

"It wasn't meant to..." Joe trailed off. Sherlock looked away exasperated. "God," Joe rubbed his hand over his face. "What's Lucy gonna say? Jesus." He sunk back on the sofa.

"Why did you kill him?" John asked.

"It was an accident," Joe said. Sherlock snorted and Bella scoffed in unison. "I _swear_ it was."

"But stealing the plans for the missile defence programme wasn't an accident, was it?" Sherlock asked sternly.

Joe then began to explain everything. About how he found out about the memory stick, how he took it, and how Andrew West came by to take it back. He then explained how it was just an accident in which West died by falling down a flight of stairs.

"I just didn't have a clue what to do, so I dragged him in 'ere, and I just sat in the dark, thinking," Joe said.

"When a neat little idea popped into your head," Sherlock said.

"You hauled Andrew West's body out of this window," Bella said, pointing to the window facing the train tracks, "and across the little extension roof and onto the roof of the train. You settled him into a position in which he wouldn't easily fall off because if he did fall off too close to here, that would make you a suspect. And then the train went down the track, carrying Andrew West far away from here."

"His body would have gone on for ages if the train hadn't met a stretch of track that curved," Sherlock added.

"And points," John said.

"Exactly," Sherlock and Bella replied in unison.

John looked like he wanted to say something to Bella and Sherlock but he refrained and instead asked Joe, "D'you still have it, then? The memory stick?"

Joe nodded.

"Fetch it for us – if you wouldn't mind," Sherlock said.

Joe sighed and stood up. He walked into another room and Sherlock walked closer to Bella and John.

"Distraction over, the game continues," He said quietly.

"Well, maybe _that's_ over, too. We've heard _nothing_ from the bomber."

"Five pips, _remember_ , John?" Bella asked.

"It's a countdown," Sherlock said. "We've only had four."

"One more to go," Bella sighed.

►

It was nighttime when the three of them were settled back in at 221B. Bella still refused to talk to Sherlock. John tried adamantly to get her to talk to him but then she started to ignore him as well until he stopped. Bella wasn't going to forgive Sherlock that easily. She knew how James worked and he loved winning. Sherlock played right into his hands.

John was on his laptop typing, Sherlock was watching crap telly, and Bella was on her phone with her daughter.

"Anthea is taking me to get ice cream!" Violet giggled into the phone.

"This late at night?" Bella asked. "You won't go to sleep."

"Anthea said it's because I was good all day."

Bella sighed and smiled, even though her daughter couldn't see it. "Oh, alright, sweetie. Just, don't eat too much."

"Alright, mommy. I love you."

"I love you, too. I will see you tomorrow."

Bella hung up the phone and Sherlock began screaming at the telly.

"No, no, _no!_ Of _course_ he's not the boy's father! Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!" Sherlock yelled, folding his arms across his chest.

John took a moment to look at the screen before looking back at his laptop.

"Knew it was dangerous," John said.

"Hmm?"

"Getting you into crap telly."

"Then why'd you do it?" Bella asked as she sat on the couch.

"To give him something to do," John said.

"Not a patch on Connie Prince," Sherlock said, cutting into John and Bella's conversation.

"Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?" John asked, changing the topic.

"Yep," Sherlock lied. "He was over the moon. Threatened me with a knighthood...again."

Bella raised an eyebrow at the blatant lie but chose to keep quiet. There must be a reason why he was lying.

"You know, I'm still waiting," John said.

"Hmm?"

"For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system and you'd have cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker."

"Didn't do either of _you_ any good, did it?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but we aren't the world's only consulting detective," John said.

Bella groaned as Sherlock replied, "True."

"John, don't inflate his ego. It's hard enough to get it to fit inside this flat. Any bigger and we'll have to keep him outside," Bella said with a pointed look in Sherlock's direction.

John just rolled his eyes at Bella. He shut his laptop lid and stood up.

"I won't be in for tea. I'm going to Sarah's. There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge."

Bella saw this as an opportunity to talk to Sherlock about his lie, even though she didn't want to say two words to him. She wanted to know why he lied to the only person in the world, besides Mycroft, to actually care about him.

"Awesome, okay," Bella said, getting up and ushering John out of the flat, "bye John!"

She shut the door behind John and leant against it, looking at Sherlock.

"You and I need to talk," Bella said.

"Oh, are we on speaking terms now?" Sherlock asked sarcastically as he picked up his laptop from where it was tucked down beside him. "What is it now?"

"You lied to John. I mean, I get lying to your big brother, but lying to John, of all people?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "You need to explain yourself."

"Uh, no I don't," Sherlock said as he typed into his laptop.

Bella glared at Sherlock and breathed sharply through her nose. She stormed over to him and read over his shoulder what he was typing.

_Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect.  
The Pool. Midnight._

Bella gasped.

"You're really going to be _that_ stupid?!" Bella exclaimed. "Of all times to _not_ use that brain of yours, _this_ is the time you pick?!"

Sherlock looked at Bella. "Is there something you would like to share with the class, Bella?"

"Yea," Bella said, "I know the bomber personally, and I will _not_ be going with you on the suicide mission that you have just enacted for yourself." Bella picked up the jacket that she tossed on the couch. "It was nice knowing you, Sherlock, while I had the chance."

Bella marched out of the flat and outside into the nippy London night air. She pulled her coat tighter around her body and sighed angrily. She wanted so badly to knock some sense into Sherlock. She wanted to know what was going through his mind to make him want to risk his life to meet James. What was Sherlock trying to prove?

"Oh, sorry," Bella muttered as she bumped into somebody.

"No problem," a very familiar voice said.

Bella looked up and her hazel eyes widened. "Sebastian."

Bella went to run away but Sebastian stuck a needle into her jugular and inserted what was in the phial into her vein. Bella felt her mind and body begin to shut down.

"Why?" Bella slurred.

"I told you before," Sebastian said, beginning to blur in Bella's vision. "Moriarty misses you and his daughter."

"Violet," Bella slurred.

Her body fell limp and everything around her quickly fell into darkness.

►

"James, please," Bella pleaded with James once she had finally woken up. "Where's Violet? Where's my daughter?"

" _Our_ daughter?" James asked. "Don't you mean _our_ daughter?" James shook his head. "She's quite alright. I would never hurt Violet. She's with Sebastian."

Bella growled. "Why are you doing this? Why _now_?"

"Because I missed you," James said. They both heard a door opened and James smiled. "Ah, show time."

James roughly grabbed Bella's arm, making sure that she wouldn't escape, and grabbed the phone with his other hand.

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present," Sherlock's loud voice echoed in the nearly empty swimming pool. "Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance – all to distract me from _this._ "

"Walk out very slowly," James said into the phone.

Bella heard another door opening and another pair of footsteps walking.

"Evening," James said.

"Evening," John repeated.

"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?"

"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?"

"John. What the hell...?" Sherlock asked. Bella could hear the near heartbreak in his voice.

"Bet you never saw _this_ coming. And then open your jacket." James said into the phone.

John repeated what he said and, presumably, opened the jacket to reveal the bomb James had placed on him.

"What would you like me to make him say next?" James asked and John repeated.

Bella started to struggle in James' grasp. James bent down and whispered their daughter's name in her ear and Bella's movement ceased.

"Gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer," James said.

John repeated him, his voice breaking on the last one.

"Stop it," Sherlock said strongly.

"Nice touch this," James said, John repeating every word right after James said it. "The pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart."

"Please, don't," Bella whispered.

James gave her a pointed look that said "shut up," which she did.

"Who _are_ you?" Sherlock asked.

"Showtime," James whispered to Bella, dragging her along with him.

He went through the door at the far end of the pool.

"I gave you my number. I thought you might call," James said plaintively.

Sherlock turned towards the voice and watched as James walked into the open, dragging a clearly distressed Bella with him. Sherlock looked at Bella and realised that this was who she was scared of. This was who she was trying to warn him about without giving too much away.

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket," James said as Sherlock reached back behind him, "or are you just pleased to see me?"

Sherlock raised the pistol and aimed it at James. "Both."

James stopped walking and looked at Sherlock unafraid. "Jim Moriarty. Hi!" James said in a sing-song voice. Sherlock looked more closely at the man, seeing a resemblance between him and Violet. He was finally putting the pieces together. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" James asked, thinking Sherlock didn't remember him.

James began to walk alongside the deep end again, pulling Bella along with him. Sherlock brought up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun so he didn't accidentally hit Bella. James bit his lip as if he was disappointed in Sherlock.

"Oh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that _was_ rather the point."

He turned to face Sherlock just as the sniper's laser flickered over John's upper chest. Sherlock briefly turned his head towards John, a questioning look on his face.

"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty, just ask sweet Isabella here." James said and Bella stiffened as he ran a hand tenderly down her face.

They stopped at the corner of the pool. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist you see..." James looked surprised for a moment as if he only just realised the connection. "Like you!"

"Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?" Sherlock said snidely.

James started walking and pulled Bella along with him. She wanted to get away but she didn't know how without getting killed.

"Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"

James stopped walking again. "Just so," he said in a mock London accent.

"Consulting Criminal," Sherlock said. "Brilliant," he said softly.

"Isn't it?" James smiled proudly. "No-one ever gets to me," James said, not mentioning Bella or Violet, "and no-one ever will."

Sherlock cocked the pistol. " _I_ did."

"You've come the closest," James said, not sparing a glance at the woman whom he had a tight grip on. "Now you're in my way."

"Thank you."

"Didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Yes, you did."

"Yeah, okay," James shrugged, "I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock," James' voice became high-pitched and sing-song, "daddy's had enough now!" James was back to his normal tone as he started to walk closer again. "I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you and Isabella to come out and play."

"Why?" Bella asked, strained.

"Shut up, sweetheart," James said at Bella before turning his attention back to Sherlock. "So, take this as a friendly warning...my dear." He paused. "Back off from me and my family." James smiled. "Although I have loved playing this little game of ours."

"People have died," Bella said.

"That's what people _DO!_ " He screamed the last word furiously at Bella. "You should know that by now," his calm demeanour back as he caressed her cheek once again.

Sherlock saw how she flinched when he touched her and he didn't like it.

"I _will_ stop you," he said, having a double meaning.

"No, you won't," James said.

"You two all right?" Sherlock asked, looking at both John and Bella.

Bella nodded her head once but John turned his gaze away, having been given instruction earlier from James about not talking to Sherlock. James walked forwards again with Bella and reached John's side.

"You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead," James said.

John, refusing to specifically obey James' orders, met Sherlock's eyes and nodded once. Sherlock took one hand off the pistol and held out the memory stick towards James.

"Take it and let Bella go," Sherlock said firmly.

"Huh?" James asked, his grip tightening and Bella's face showing it. "Oh! That!"

He strolled past John, dragging Bella with him, and reached out for the stick grinning.

"The missile plans!" James said amused.

He took the stick from Sherlock's fingers and kissed it. He didn't let Bella go, though. He brought her in closer to him as he lowered the memory stick and looked at it.

"Boring!" James said in a sing-song voice, shaking his head. "I could have got them anywhere, especially if I threatened my lovely fiancée," James said as he tossed the stick into the pool.

John raced forward and slammed himself up against James' back, the suddenness causing James to lose his hold on Bella. Bella ran over to Sherlock who took a step back in surprise but kept the pistol raised and aimed at James.

"Sherlock, Bella, run!" John yelled as he held James against him by his neck and chest.

James just laughed. " _Good! Very_ good."

Sherlock and Bella don't move, though. Sherlock was still aiming his gun at James' head but was now beginning to look a little anxious. Bella was trying to calm her racing heart, still worried about her daughter.

"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up," John said savagely and breathlessly.

"Isn't he sweet?" James said calmly to Sherlock. "I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets," James said, his eyes flickering to Bella briefly which Sherlock caught.

John grimaced angrily, breathing hard and pulled James even closer to him. James scowled round at him.

"They're so touchingly loyal until they leave. But, _oops!_ " James exclaimed.

The laser point on John disappeared and Bella's breathing picked up.

"You've rather show your hand there, Doctor Watson," James said.

John looked at Sherlock in horror and Bella looked up at Sherlock to see a laser point in the middle of his forehead. Bella couldn't help but wonder if there was one on her. But Sherlock, seeing the looks on the three people's faces, shook his head slightly at John.

"Gotcha!" James said in a sing-song voice.

He chuckled as John released his grip on him and stepped back. He held up his hands up in surrender and James glanced round at him. He turned back towards Sherlock and Bella while brushing his hands down his suit to straighten it. He gestured to it indignantly.

"Westwood!" He said, lowering his hands and standing calming in front of the two.

"Oh, grow up," Bella spat at him, "it's not like you can't go out and buy another one."

James looked at her with disappointment in his eyes. "Don't you remember this suit, my sweetheart? This is the one that I proposed to you in."

Bella felt Sherlock stiffen next to her and she saw John over James' shoulder go rigid.

"I mean, you're still wearing your engagement ring. It's on the wrong finger but you're still wearing it," James smirked at her before looking at Sherlock. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to _you?_ "

"Oh, let me guess," Sherlock said, sounding bored, "I get killed."

"Kill you?" James asked, grimacing. "N-no, don't be obvious," his eyes shifted like he wanted to make sure nobody saw Sherlock make a mistake. "I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway someday. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special." He smiled at Bella and she glared harshly at him. "No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll _burn_ you."

James let his eyes briefly roam down Sherlock's body before meeting his eyes again. His voice became vicious.

"I'll burn the _heart_ out of you," his face was a snarl as he said the word 'heart' but turned almost regretful when he ended the sentence.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock said softly.

"But we both know that's not _quite_ true," James said, eyes flickering to Bella.

Sherlock blinked involuntarily. James looked down, smiling, and then shrugged.

"Well, I'd better be off. I've got a daughter to go and see."

" _No!_ " Bella yelled, going to run to him when Sherlock stopped her.

James just laughed, surveying the pool for all the exits, before turning back to Sherlock and Bella.

"Well, so nice to have had a proper chat," he said.

Sherlock raised the pistol high and extended it closer to James' head. He was having a hard time keeping the pistol steady while also keeping Bella from going after James and possibly taken away.

"What if I was to shoot you now – right now?" Sherlock asked.

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face," James said completely unperturbed. He opened his eyes and mouth wide, mimicking surprise, and then grinned at Sherlock. "Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock, really I would." James screwed up his nose. "And just a teensy bit disappointed. You wouldn't be able to find Violet and of course, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."

Slowly, he began to turn away. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes. See you later, sweetheart."

James calmly walked towards the side door that John came through earlier. Sherlock slowly stepped forward to keep him in his sights.

"Catch...you...later," Sherlock said.

The door opened. "No, you won't!" James' high-pitched and sing-song voice was heard one last time before the door closed.

For a few seconds, Sherlock didn't move, his gun still aimed towards the door and his arm still around Bella keeping her from running after James. Then Sherlock's gaze drifted across to John and he bent down, putting the pistol on the floor. He dropped to his knees in front of John and started to unfasten the bomb vest.

Bella stared down at the discarded pistol. She needed to know where her daughter was. She couldn't let James get near her and tell her he was her father. Bella couldn't let that hang over Violet for the rest of her life, knowing that her father was a psychopath and a murderer.

"Bella, don't," Sherlock said, hurrying to pick the pistol up and keep it away from Bella.

"He has my daughter, Sherlock. _My daughter!_ " Bella yelled. "You expect me to just stay here and do nothing?!"

"Tell me something," Sherlock said, walking closer to Bella, "do you still love him?"

Bella's eyes widened and she wanted to smack him again. " _No!_ How could you ask me something like that?!"

"Because you still wear the ring," Sherlock said and Bella looked down at the ring. "It wasn't him that broke it off, it was you," he said, correcting his past mistake. "But you still keep it on because part of you holds out hope that he might _still_ be the man that you fell in love with."

"Stop it," Bella said, looking up with tears in her eyes. "You..." Her voice broke, "just stop it."

"Sherlock," John said from his position on the floor. "Leave her alone. We can do this-" John looked at Sherlock with horror on his face as the sniper's lasers began their dance over his chest. "Oh..."

Bella looked down at her own chest to see there was nothing but looked at her boys to see there were at least four lasers on each of them. She turned around at the sound of a door opening at the deep end of the pool. Watching James come back in, clapping his hands, she wanted to drown him in the pool.

"Sorry, boys and fiancée!" He said cheerfully. "I'm sooooo changeable!"

John grimaced in disbelief. Sherlock kept his back to Jim, trying to figure out how many snipers there were. James laughed and spread his arms wide.

"It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself, it is one of my only _three_ weaknesses."

"I guess that means I'm one of them," Bella snarled at him, "and so is Violet."

"Sweetheart, you will _always_ be my weakness," James said, lowering his head for a few seconds and placing his hands in his pockets.

Sherlock turned his head and looked down at John, who lifted his own head to meet his gaze.

"You can't be allowed to continue, Sherlock. You just can't. I _would_ try to convince you but..." He laughed and his voice became sing-song again, "everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"

Sherlock, after getting a tiny nod from John, turned to face James pointing the pistol at him. "Probably my answer has crossed yours."

James smiled confidently with no fear in his expression. Sherlock locked eyes with Bella and she nodded her head as well. So, after hearing that she was one of his weaknesses, Sherlock moved the pistol over to Bella.

James tilted his head, looking a little anxious for the first time. Bella in took a sharp breath, closing her eyes and sending, what she thought, was her last thought to her daughter. _'Be strong, Violet. I love you.'_ Bella was ready to die, knowing now that it might just devastate James and that her boys would find her daughter and protect her.

Sherlock locked eyes with James and James began to smile. Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly as he got ready to pull the trigger.


End file.
